Yeshuah and the Twelve Disciples
by Carol Molliniere
Summary: "Things were crashing down before her eyes. It was over. What had they to protect now?"
1. Prologue

**Yeshuah and the Twelve Disciples**

**By: Carol Molliniere**

**A/N: Alright, so I know you guys that have me on story alert are probably angry at me right now, and you guys that have me on story alert for my AT story are truly disappointed. Let me acknowledge first that "Gone?" is probably going on indefinite hiatus right now, and I don't know what to do with it. I'm even considering deleting it, but I may not.**

**And anyway, for this fanfiction: The idea wouldn't leave me alone. It started when I read "Snow Jesus and the Seven Disciples" (I think the title went something like that), and I thought that while it was entertaining to read, I could try to make it a little more reasonable (Jesus in a French maid's outfit is too much for me). So here it is.**

**Enough of my ramblings. Let's get it started!**

**Disclaimer: Are you even serious? I don't think I could own the Bible or the people in it, not even if I tried. And I don't own "Snow Jesus and the Seven Disciples", that belongs to Amoy Tae. Some of the character listings will remain the same, but there will be changes. And I don't own Snow White. Gosh.**

**Though there are chances that this will stop sounding like Snow White at some point...**

* * *

_Prologue:_

Once upon a time, there lived a loving and generous king in Israel. King Yahweh upheld the equality of the people, brought criminals to justice, and treated guests from other countries with respect. The kingdom he ruled was a peaceful one.

But soon, the Israelites began to complain of his rule, mostly because the foreigners he served with as much generosity as he did with the natives obviously did not like the people of Israel. King Yahweh, at first, warned them about what would happen if he were to be deposed and a cruel man should become the ruler of Israel. But still they rebelled, and loving them too much to try and execute anyone, he stepped down, along with his wife, Queen Miriam.

The king the Israelites chose to lead them, though, was not a good one. He was the one of the most hostile kings that anyone had ever seen. He put everyone on unequal rankings, with the poor people at the lowest of them all. If there was crime on the streets, they were forgotten, and if they weren't, the guilty went away unpunished and the innocent slain and imprisoned. The kings and princes from other countries were turned away, simply because they were "Gentiles" (what the common Israelite called the common foreigner). The people cried out for King Yahweh to come back, but King Caiaphas simply said that their former king was dead.

But King Yahweh was not dead. King Caiaphas had simply changed his name to Yosef and made him the palace carpenter, while the former Queen Miriam was made a lowly maid. With their servant clothes, no one would ever know that they were the former king and queen of Israel. The harder they worked, though, the harsher the new king treated them.

It was at this time that Miriam gave birth to a son, and years later, the king's wife gave birth to a daughter. The boy was raised in rags and sawdust, while the daughter was raised in fine gold and riches.

While Princess Amata was a sign to Israel that Caiaphas would rule forever, the promise of the boy Yeshuah said otherwise.

* * *

**Chapter 1 coming up shortly.**


	2. Chapter 1: The Ark

**(A/N: Ah, Chapter 1!**

**And for disclaimers, refer to the prologue.)**

* * *

For many years, ever since Princess Amata was born, King Caiaphas had in his possession an ark made of acacia wood. It was no simple ark, being overlaid with gold – inside and out – and decorated with cherubim. But what was amazing about the ark was that it could answer all questions, no matter what you asked it. No one was sure how the ark had gotten these powers, but no one actually dared question him.

During King Yahweh's rule, before Caiaphas had it, Yahweh only used it for the benefit of his people. It was used to resolve difficult problems with the Israelites, and to know whether or not a murderer was running free.

But with King Caiaphas, there was only one needed question for him.

"Speak, o wise ark; who will rule Israel after I die?"

And for a long time, there was only one answer:

"The man whose heart your daughter Amata is after; he will rule all of Israel."

Now never before had King Caiaphas questioned this reply; he was rather contented it. But soon Princess Amata grew into the fairest maiden in all of the land, and with so many men, rich and poor (though the king did not allow any Gentile suitor) courting the young lady, the king just had to ask the question once more.

"Speak, o wise ark," he began, as if talking to a supreme being. "Who will rule Israel after I die?"

The wind began to blow, as if demonstrating the majesty of this "supreme being". Then the ark answered yet again, "The man whose heart your daughter Amata is after; he will rule all of Israel."

"If I may ask, o ark, who is this man whom my daughter will marry?" King Caiaphas asked.

After a brief silence, the ark replied, "The son of the one they call Yosef, the carpenter boy Yeshuah."

* * *

"Yeshuah!"

The young carpenter looked up to see the princess walking towards him. Putting down his hammer, he turned to her, and then bowed before her.

Amata shook her head. "You don't have to bow before me, Yeshuah, for you are my friend." She extended a hand to him and pulled him to his feet. "Still, I am but a lowly carpenter, and you the princess. I have to show you respect." Then he led her to a chair made just for her, a place where she could sit whenever she visited him.

"So, how was your day, Princess? Did you find a man to marry yet?" Yeshuah asked her as he went back to fixing a bench. Amata rolled her eyes. "No, not really. The rich are always too arrogant and Father advises me not to marry a poor man, though he says keep an eye out in case he's secretly rich." She sighed. "I don't understand how Father can look down on those in poverty and not feel guilty at all."

For the princess, unlike her father, was kind and generous. Once, when she was just a little girl, she gave a poor girl of the same age a necklace she was wearing – worth so many shekels than anyone could ever count. Amata was reprimanded for it later, and the poor girl had scarred hands after the soldiers had taken it from her.

Princess Amata tried not to think about it too much, otherwise she would worry over what would happen if she gave Yeshuah even the tiniest speck of gold.

"Father has been acting very strange today."

"Oh?"

"He kept asking me if I had ever been with you." The very thought of it made her blush, for she did not know what had made her father ask such a question. "And of course I said I had not. I told him I didn't even know you very well."

"But you do know me," Yeshuah commented as he finished off the repairs. "Why did you lie?"

"I…I was afraid that you and I would never be allowed to see each other again." Amata lowered her view to the ground. "And…I would miss you too much, Yeshuah. I would miss you too much if that happened."

Yeshuah put down his tools again, walked over to her, and got down on one knee. "I promise you, my lady," and he softly took her hand in his, looking Amata in the eye. "I will not go anywhere."

* * *

The hall was dark. It was dark enough for a secret to be privately revealed.

And this was what the king wanted.

"Y'hudah Iscariot," he addressed the man kneeling in front of him.

"Yes, my lord," The man answered, his head bowed low.

"I have a mission for you." King Caiaphas took a sword out of the folds of his robe, still inside of the scabbard. He lay it on the ground in front of the man. "Kill the young palace carpenter, Yeshuah. And bring his heart to me."

The assassin slowly picked up the sword, then unsheathed it. He ran a finger across the blade, his smile reflected in the metal.

"I will do it, my king."


	3. Chapter 2: The Assassin

**(A/N: …)**

* * *

The next day, everything went as normal as it could get in the kingdom of Israel. People were selling and worshipping and working. It was the kind of day when you would suspect nothing was wrong.

But for a certain assassin, it was something much more than ordinary.

At first, Y'hudah Iscariot was eager to finally get some new mission, handed down from the king himself. But soon he remembered who the young carpenter was, and his courage was faltering with every step he took, nearing the house of the long-dead carpenter Yosef.

"Why would the king want to kill his carpenter, anyway?" he whispered to himself. "It makes no sense at all, and if he wanted him dead, he could just execute the poor boy. And what of his mother? What would become of her?" (For Y'hudah did not know that Yeshuah was actually the son of King Yahweh.)

He fingered the sword at his thigh. Of course, to go against the king's direct orders would mean possible death. He had to kill the carpenter, no questions needed.

When he got there, he looked around the house. It wasn't too shabby, that was his first impression. The next thing he noticed was that the place was thick with sawdust. It stuck to his throat and blew up his nose, making him gag.

Exhaling hard, he walked over to where he knew would be the workshop of the palace carpenter. He walked towards a window, where he could see what Yeshuah was doing in his final moments. On seeing the young man alone in his workplace Y'hudah grabbed the hilt of the sword and unsheathed it. He hoped no one would see the glint of the metal in the sun, or hear his footsteps coming closer…

"Yeshuah!" The assassin heard a feminine voice call. A young lady, to be exact. The assassin quickly put away the sword and crouched down, hoping he wouldn't be seen.

"Oh, hello, Princess," Yeshuah said, turning to Amata, who had just walked in. "What is in the basket?" The princess put it down on the worktable where Yeshuah was shaving a plank of wood. "I brought something for you and your mother. I heard that you were running out of food, so I brought this over." With that, she promptly pulled out a loaf of fine bread and a hefty chunk of cheese. "Oh, thank you very much, Princess," Yeshuah said as he knelt down again and, taking her hand in his, pressed it to his lips.

"It's the princess!" Y'hudah gasped. It was very unusual for royalty to be around the common folk without a grand procession, and so he suspected that Princess Amata had gone through a lot of trouble just to get out of the palace gates. Luckily, her cloak shielded her from being quickly discovered.

"Surely she had wanted to see this young man badly," Y'hudah said to himself.

And then he understood half of why King Caiaphas wanted Yeshuah dead.

"I can't stay very long, though, Yeshuah," Amata said. "I have to attend to the men who are courting me, mostly those who will be laden with gold and silver just to pay the bridal price."

The carpenter chuckled a bit. "I am terribly sorry for laughing, Princess, but as a poor man, I just cannot see how men expect to pay for you." The princess couldn't help but smile back at him, then pulled him to his feet. "Since I need to be quick in coming back to the palace, I think I may have to take a shortcut through the desert sands." (The Kingdom of Israel is a fertile kingdom surrounded by the desert.)

"But, Princess," Yeshuah objected, "the desert is hot and dry, and there are serpents that might bite you. Let me escort you back to the palace, my lady." He lowered his head again, and Amata, not willing to refuse him, nodded. "Alright, I will let you accompany me. But you will have to leave as soon as I enter the palace gates."

"With pleasure, Princess Amata."

At this, the two left the workshop to tell Yeshuah's mother of their journey. Meanwhile, the assassin still stood in the window, transfixed and frozen in his thoughts.

"What am I going to do, now that the princess is with him?" Y'hudah asked himself. He pondered the matter, and he first considered abandoning his mission altogether. But he remembered that he had direct orders and he must obey, princess or no princess.

"The desert – yes, the snakes might take him first, if he is indeed protecting the princess," he decided. "And if they don't kill him first, then when the princess turns away, I'll kill him and take his heart." Thinking this to be a rather good idea, he set off to follow the pair.

* * *

The desert. Oh, what a terrible place. The sun burning every inch of the area. The sand sinking under your feet and irritating your skin. No water for miles and miles. And the desert serpents – those would certainly be the end of you!

But nevertheless, the carpenter Yeshuah and Princess Amata had to keep moving. The anger of the king flared more than the burning sun, and it would kill more than a desert serpent ever would. So Amata decided to risk it, with her faithful friend keeping her company.

"Do not worry, Yeshuah," she encouraged him. "The palace is only one mile away. I told you this way was quicker." And it indeed was, with the shape of the palace coming into view. Yeshuah looked up at her, his smile still present even in the heat. "Do not worry either, Princess. I will be fine."

Amata couldn't help but smile back, and when she turned she swore to herself that the heat on her cheeks was from the sun.

"We should stop at that oasis over there," Yeshuah said, pointing to a lush area with a few trees and a small lake.

"But it might be just an illusion, cast by the sun," Amata said. "Like I said before, Yeshuah, the palace isn't really that far away."

"You seem to have a fever, my lady," Yeshuah yelled from his place, seeming to have noticed his friend's blush, "and this water is clear. We can't have you collapsing by the time you reach the gates, Princess. Please, refresh yourself, and then we may be on our way."

Seeing as she couldn't argue with him any further, she headed towards him and found that the water was real.

As real as the man standing hidden in the set of palm trees.

Y'hudah Iscariot had been following them for quite some time now, and he was already out of breath. Not only that, but the thought of killing a poor man just because the princess loved him weighed down on the assassin's mind as much as the sword weighed down on his belt. If she loved him, even if he lived in poverty, why not just leave them be?

Sneaking up behind a tree closer to his target, Y'hudah unsheathed the sword once again, Yeshuah and Amata's reflections seen clearly on the blade. And once again the hesitation crept in.

Amata was turning to the water and washing her face. Now was his chance. Y'hudah slowly stepped towards Yeshuah, breath withheld, sword raised for the kill, and—

His eyes widened.

The carpenter's eyes were two different colors. And not just any two colors. One eye was blue and the other brown, which could only mean one thing.

The sword fell to the dust, and Yeshuah whirled around in surprise. "What—"

"Forgive me, King Caiaphas! For I cannot kill him!" Y'hudah fell to his knees. "O King Yahweh, forgive me!"

And now he knew why the king wanted the young man dead.

"Sir?" Yeshuah asked. "Sir, are you alright?" Y'hudah did not reply, he just gazed up at the carpenter with teary eyes. "I cannot believe it," he said to himself. "All these years…The king has kept it secret all these years!"

"What has my father kept secret all these years?" Amata asked, rising from her spot and walking to Yeshuah's side.

"The things…the former king…King Yahweh…!" Y'hudah managed to spit out. "He has hidden Yahweh and Yahweh has had a son! King Yahweh's reign will live forever!"

"Sir, are you going insane? Get a hold of yourself!" Amata screamed, even though she was not one to be easily angered; she was just angry with the king for him to have kept secrets from her.

"King Caiaphas…he must have degraded King Yahweh and Queen Miriam, and made them lowly servants," the assassin finally explained. "And he changed Yahweh's name to Yosef, and Yahweh and Miriam have a son! You, Yeshuah, you are that son!"

"W-what?" Yeshuah took a step back in shock. "Who? Me? I'm a carpenter! I'm no son of a king!" Y'hudah looked up at him. "Your eyes! There was only one person who had those eyes that we knew, and that was King Yahweh! You are his son!"

"Even if I were the former king's son, what good would that do?" the carpenter asked. "My father is dead." "Oh, I am terribly sorry to hear that, sir," the assassin looked down at the ground. "But because you are the former king's son, you are in danger. I think the king is trying to kill you because you are in love with the princess—"

Yeshuah and Amata both quickly blushed at this. "H-how did you know that?" they both asked in unison. "Forgive me, but in order to carry out the king's orders to kill you, I had followed you around. If I had offended both of you, any of you, then I am truly sorry."

The carpenter and the princess looked at each other, and then turned back to the assassin. "No, all is well, sir," Yeshuah said. Then Y'hudah continued, "The king will kill you because if you marry Princess Amata, you will rule once again and everyone will soon find out that you are King Yahweh's son.

"So run! Run and never come back!"

"But…" Yeshuah looked at Amata, who looked down at the ground as if thinking, then slowly nodded. "Go. This man speaks reasonably enough." She wiped away a few tears. "Even if I will miss you. Go."

"But, Princess—"

"Run!" Amata yelled. "Before you change your mind. Run! Run as far away as you can!"

And with that, the carpenter turned and ran.

Princess Amata watched as he ran off into the horizon.

"Princess," Y'hudah got to his feet. "I think it's best you should go back to the palace." She turned to him. "You said you swore to my father that you would kill him. What will you bring back in return?"

"…A sheep's heart," he finally replied. "I'll take one of the sheep from my herd and kill it."

* * *

**(The eye condition I'm talking about is heterochromia iridum, a condition where the eyes are two different colors. And yes, it can be hereditary. Though I usually picture Jesus with just brown eyes, I figured this would be best for the story since I didn't want the whole "discovered by birthmark" thing. Though I guess it still is, in a way…)**


	4. Chapter 3: Lost and Found

**(A/N: Thanks for the reviews! As for magdalena mariposa, you certainly got right that Princess Amata is representing God's people. And I know the Lord's bride is not a single person, but I just love the personification thing.**

**And on a side note, I chose the name Amata because it means "beloved". Like King David's name, the "man after God's own heart". =D**

**I don't own anything!)**

* * *

Yeshuah ran. He ran without direction, only knowing that it was away from the palace, away from home. The sandy winds getting in his eyes did not deter him, and neither did the tiredness in his legs. Still, he felt that no matter how far he ran, he was trapped. The king would find him eventually, if he were really set on killing him.

"Father!" Yeshuah called out to himself, to his dead father, to nothing. "Why did you never tell me you were once the king?"

Silence.

"And what about Mother? She will be alone and in grave danger because of me! Why did you not tell me anything?"

Silence.

The carpenter tripped over a rock and fell into the sands. He breathed in heavily, trying to catch his breath. "Lord," he finally pleaded to his God. "Why have You turned the king against me…? Why does he hate my father so much?"

He was met again with silence. But this time, the wind blew, and the silence comforted him.

Yeshuah coughed, and he heard the common Israelite's worst nightmare.

A desert serpent, hissing in dissent, opening its jaw wide.

Yeshuah screamed and got to his feet, scrambling in the direction of the nearest city he could find. He didn't dare turn back, for he knew that the snake would be following him. The hissing that was behind him clearly reinforced the fact.

Soon enough, pain shot up his ankle. He yelped, and struggled to get it off him. Once it got off, it slithered off while Yeshuah, feeling the venom begin to take effect, started limping, and then later crawled across the ground.

By the time he reached the eleventh building he had seen, the young man was already fighting to think straight. Was he really the former king's son? Was he far from the king's wrath? What happened to the princess? Where was she?

Where…was he…?

Yeshuah fell to the ground, unable to get up. The last thing he saw before his eyes closed was a lake, one that reminded him of the oasis he left behind.

* * *

At the same time, three boats from the lake were pulling into shore. All of them were boats of the fisherfolk. There were three passengers on each boat, all male.

"It has been a long day, Brother," one of the fishermen said to his brother. His brother nodded. "Yes. At the very least, though, we had a decent catch." The oldest of the passengers of that boat, who was their father, said to them, "Be glad we at least have a catch. Who would care if we had only one fish? If we had only one fish, we would know the Lord is good to us, and we could sell that one fish…"

"Jonah, someday, you might bore your sons into taking up a different profession than you, because of that gobbledygook you say about fish and catches." The father, now known as Jonah, looked up at the other man on the boat at his left. "And you, Zebedee. You do not raise your sons very well. They are so hot-tempered; they may as well be the sons of thunder!"

"So is your son Simon Peter," Zebedee pointed out. "But you are right, old friend."

"How about you, Philip?" Peter called to the boat on their right. "Was all well with your fishing?" A dark-haired man on the boat called back, "Yes! All went well."

The youngest on Philip's boat looked towards the edge of the lake, squinting as if trying to see better. Then he turned to his friend and said, "Philip, there on the shore, is that not our friend James, talking with the former prostitute named Mary?"

"Why, it is!" Peter's younger brother Andrew said in surprise. "You have good eyes, Nathanael. I wonder what it is they are doing there." Peter exhaled, a cross between a sigh and a scoff. "James is probably being nice to her and welcoming her back into society."

The three fishing boats finally came to shore, and Andrew, Nathanael, Philip, and Zebedee's youngest son John left the boats to go over to their friend James, while the older men attended to the boats.

James smiled when he saw them. "Oh, hello, my friends," he greeted them. "Mary, these are my friends, Andrew, John, Nathanael, and Philip." Mary smiled sweetly but shyly at them, for she was not used to knowing men outside of her former profession.

Mary's eyes traveled everywhere but the five men, trying not to slip into her old mindset. She looked to the sky, to the water, the boats (where the men had finished attending to the boats) and to the nearest building, where beside it, a man lay facedown on the ground.

Mary all but screamed and covered her mouth in shock. James turned to her. "Why? What's the matter?" Wordlessly, she pointed to the man on the ground. As a result, all there, even the older men by the boats, looked to the direction of her finger. Upon seeing the man lying there, they ran over to him.

"What happened to him? Is he dead?" John asked. His older brother (who was also named James) turned the man over and listened for a heartbeat in his chest. "No, he's alive," he told the others. "He needs help. Get a doctor."

Yeshuah heard voices around him. They were not familiar voices. He tried to open his eyes, but the stinging came once again, and he slipped into full unconsciousness.


	5. Chapter 4: The Calm and The Storm

**(A/N: Next chapter. I hope you'll like it!)**

* * *

The next morning, King Caiaphas got up and went to the ark he had hidden in his chambers. He was certainly pleased with the heart that the assassin had given him, and because of that, he was quite sure that the answer to his question would be different now that Yeshuah was gone.

Or so he'd thought.

"Speak, o wise ark," he said, bowing low before it like a man worshipping an idol. "Who will rule Israel after I die?"

Without missing a beat, the ark answered, "The man whose heart your daughter Amata is after; he will rule all of Israel."

"Indeed," the king agreed, though he felt that the man who Amata would marry was going to change. "And who is this man?"

"He is the man whom you want dead, the man whose blood you want to shed, the carpenter boy Yeshuah."

"What?" King Caiaphas hissed. "That boy is not yet dead?!"

* * *

That same morning, the carpenter woke to the sound of waves. At first, he thought that he was dreaming of an ocean, or an ocean was part of Sheol (what the Israelites called the place where people die).

A dull pain throbbed in his ankle. Then he remembered that his father had always said that if you feel pain, then you are certainly in real life, and you are not dreaming or dead.

His father. The carpenter. The former king.

"You are awake, sir."

Yeshuah almost jumped at the unfamiliar voice. He turned to his right and saw a young man, obviously younger than him. The boy seemed to be looking at him as if he were something interesting. Yeshuah couldn't help but notice that the boy smelled like fish.

"Do you feel any pain, sir?" the stranger asked. Yeshuah nodded slowly. "It's only my ankle. I was bitten by a snake, you see."

"We know, that is why we brought you here to recover."

" 'We'?"

"My family and friends, sir." The boy explained. "We found a doctor and treated your wound while you were unconscious yesterday. The Lord had blessed you, sir, for none usually survive the bite of a poisonous snake."

Yeshuah nodded, as if in a daze. So, if the Lord had indeed delivered him from the serpent, then was he really meant to rule the kingdom…?

"Sir," the young man said quietly, looking at his face like there was something on it. "You have a strange pair of eyes. They are not the same color."

"Oh, they run in the family. My father had them." And once again, Yeshuah pondered over why his father did not tell him that he was once the king, and that the family line could be revealed through something as easily seen as eye color.

But the young man, having known nothing of King Yahweh's appearance, paid that strangeness of his eye color no heed. For he was born in King Caiaphas's reign and only heard of Yahweh's mighty deeds.

"John?" A voice called from outside the room. "How is the man?"

"He is awake and well, Mother," John responded. Footsteps hurried up the stairs, and a woman peeped in. "Sir, are you sure you're alright?"

Assuming that she was referring to him, Yeshuah replied, "Yes, madam."

"Would you like something to eat?"

"That would be nice, thank you."

With a nod of her head, John's mother left. Yeshuah turned to the window on his right, and found the lake which he had woken up to.

He smiled a little, as if the waters told him that the Lord was with him.

* * *

"Y'hudah Iscariot," the king looked down at the assassin bound in chains, held between two guards. "You had direct orders from me! Why did you not obey my orders?"

"I could not kill him, my lord," Y'hudah replied calmly, bowing his head to face the floor. "He is King Yahweh's son."

"Liar! Yahweh is dead! Why would you think such a thing?" King Caiaphas shouted. "I just know, my lord. The boy has Yahweh's strength," Y'hudah sighed, "and if I were the king, I would not hesitate to turn the kingdom over to him."

"But you are not the king!" He walked towards Y'hudah in a way that would intimidate the weak-willed, and yet the assassin did not flinch. "Do you have anything else to say, troublemaker?"

"Princess Amata loves him."

The king twitched. "Excuse me?"

"Your Highness, the princess loves the carpenter dearly."

Silence ensued for a while before King Caiaphas shook his head. "Guards!" he commanded. "Execute this man at once! Hang him on the gallows and spill out his bowels as a warning to the people!"

"As you wish, my lord." The guards bowed before him one more time before they led the assassin away. They did it quickly, because they had heard every word of the conversation, and were tempted to interject, but they were ordered not to speak a word of it under penalty of death.

So they led Y'hudah Iscariot to the gallows immediately.

He tried not to think of his wife and daughter.

King Caiaphas walked to his throne, and took a seat on it, sighing as if he were tired. He turned to a younger guard. "You there!"

The guard immediately snapped to attention. "Yes, Your Highness?"

"Bring Princess Amata. Make sure she knows the matter is urgent."


	6. Chapter 5: Amata's Pain

**(A/N: And so, we continue our tale that will from now on sound a little bit like a soap opera! In the Filipino context, if you've watched too many of them like I have.)**

* * *

Not long after the door opened, and Yeshuah caught a smell of good food. He looked to the door to see a young woman, not the mother he had seen earlier, walking into the room holding a bowl of soup and a loaf of bread.

Without warning, Yeshuah's stomach rumbled noisily. "Oh, I am terribly sorry, madam." He put a hand over his stomach, feeling embarrassed. He hadn't had anything to eat since the day before, at morning.

The woman smiled and nodded like she understood, then giggled. It was a soft laugh, one that reminded him of Princess Amata.

His princess. He wondered what she was doing now. He wondered what would happen to her if the king had found out of their friendship.

* * *

"YOU LIED TO ME!" King Caiaphas yelled at his daughter. A traitor, he thought. "You were with the carpenter's son! For all I know, you might as well have lay with him already and ruined your chances of ruling responsibly!"

"I have not done such a thing, Father," Amata said, her voice unusually quiet in shame. "We were only friends, Yeshuah and I."

"You have conspired against me, Amata! You would prefer that an infidel would be king rather than your own father!"

"I have not done anything of the sort!" The princess's voice was loud and soft at the same time, as if she were about to cry. "I love you, Father, but if you are willing to take an innocent man's life just for the sake of your reign, then—"

"Keep quiet, you rebellious child!" The king slapped his daughter so hard that she stumbled and fell to the floor. "I will show you what happens to those who dare go against the king!"

He grabbed Amata's hair and dragged to the courtyard, where an execution had just taken place. Upon coming to the gallows, the king showed her the assassin, Y'hudah Iscariot, hung there, with his bloody organs hanging out of place for all the world to see.

Amata gasped and tried to look away respectfully, but Caiaphas's grip was tight, and she was forced to look upon the spectacle, as well as the Israelites who saw and turned away in respect.

"You should be glad you were born the princess," the king said as he let go of her and stormed back into the palace, "otherwise you would have met the same fate as he!"

The princess fell to her knees as soon as he had left. She did not know what to say, for in all of her life she had never felt so powerless.

Her eyes fell upon a Israelite woman, weeping and standing beside a little girl with eyes like that of the dead man.

To be spared the fate of the dead assassin, and suffer the grief of his widow…

She was not glad she had escaped. She would not accept it if it meant that the only person who ever understood her would die.

**(Sorry it's so short...Next chapter will be much longer.)**


	7. Chapter 6: A Safe Place

**(A/N: Sorry for the slight delay. Here's the longer chapter!)**

* * *

"It was horrible," John said as he finished recalling the horrors of the public execution. "I wonder what crime he committed to execute him like that," Mary added.

"The guards said it was because the criminal let someone escape. A prisoner, maybe, since they said that he who escaped would cause the downfall of the king if we do not catch him at once."

Yeshuah immediately covered his mouth. He knew who they were talking about.

"Sir, are you alright?" Mary asked, turning to him. He nodded, but it was an automatic response. "Y-Yes. I'm fine."

After a silence, Yeshuah rolled over and moved so that he sat on the edge of the bed. Stretching his limbs, he found that his ankle didn't hurt as much as it did before. He stood up, and James [Mary's friend] said, "Well, now that you are feeling much better, maybe you can go back to your home."

"No," Yeshuah glanced to the ground for a second before he looked up again. "I cannot go back home."

"Why not?" John asked. "Do you not like it there, sir?"

"That's not it," the carpenter said as he stood up. "If I were to come back home, only chaos would follow. I could stay here, if you would let me."

John, James, and Mary looked at each other as if pondering their response, when the door opened and Peter came in. "Is there anything else you need, sir?" "Nothing at all, but thank you," Yeshuah answered.

When the fisherman looked to the young man in front of him, he froze. Then he gasped and fell to his knees.

"What's the matter, good fellow?" James moved towards Peter, getting ready to help his friend up.

"Is…is it true?" Peter mumbled as if in a daze. "Can it be…? Even after all these years…"

"Why? What is it?" John asked.

Yeshuah knew that he shouldn't have been surprised at Peter's reaction. The fisherman was older than him, about a good ten years or so, he should have seen it coming.

"Stand up, sir," he held out a hand to help Peter up. "I am just a man, as you are."

"No, I am your subject," Peter said, "if you are the son of King Yahweh."

The room was quiet once again until James spoke up. "He has a son? But I thought he was dead!"

"He might as well be, but that also may as well be his son!" the oldest in the room still proclaimed.

Yeshuah's eye twitched a bit; he was not used to being the center of attention. "My father _is_ dead, but—"

At this, John, James, and Mary, having taken a leap of faith, suddenly fell to the ground in front of Yeshuah. The carpenter suddenly knew now how the princess felt whenever he bowed to her.

"W-wait!" he exclaimed. "I do not have the right to rule Israel! Not with King Caiaphas ruling, and Princess Amata about to marry! Please, do not bow to me!"

"Then can you not take your kingdom back, sir?" John asked.

"That would be an insult to my kingdom, and to the princess, who is my friend," Yeshuah explained. "I cannot do that, because the king would kill me for sure."

"Then we must hide you somewhere," Mary said. "But where will we hide you?"

"My house has a bit of room left," Peter said. "Maybe you can hide there."

The young man smiled. "Thank you, sir, you are too kind."

* * *

**(A/N: So, what do I have to say? Not much. Except that we all survived December 21, 2012 – take that, doomsday believers!)**

**I'd like a slice of reviews. Merry Christmas!**


	8. Chapter 7: Making Arrangements

**(A/N: Sorry for the slight delay…again. Now, magdalena mariposa, I have no idea how to respond correctly to your question about little animals. Or to your comment about Jesus/Yeshuah being a little too girly for your taste.**

**So…let me just say that I have no idea where to put little animals, even as a metaphor. I know, yes, Jesus loves all creation, but wouldn't putting little animals there ruin the tough guy image that you're trying to put in Yeshuah?**

**And being a girl and a wallflower, I have no idea about boys. I have absolutely no idea about what makes them "manly" or whatever. I don't talk to the boys in my class very much, much less about what makes them a man. At least Yeshuah's straight (lol). Yes, I'm stupid.)**

**(Now enjoy this new piece of the puzzle.)**

* * *

John's mother looked up as she heard footsteps behind her. She turned to see Yeshuah, Peter, her sons James and John, Mary, and Mary's friend James going towards the door.

"James?" she asked her oldest son. "Just where do you and John think you are going?"

James froze in his tracks, as did the others. He turned to face her. "Ah, Mother, we were just going to escort the stranger home."

"Why do you need to do that?" his mother inquired again. "Because he's the former ki—" John was interrupted by James clapping his hand over the former's mouth. "Well, we are making sure that he will not get bitten by a snake again on the way."

She still looked skeptical. "So why do you all have to go?"

"There's…safety in numbers…?"

"…Alright. Just get home before the sun sets, and be careful."

"We will," John waved.

They stepped out, and were surprised to see the streets chock full of the palace guards questioning the citizens of Galilee (as the district was called). He pulled his cloak tighter around him, hoping none of them would recognize him…

Luckily, they got through undisturbed, and soon they were at Peter's house, a simple structure made of brick and cement and wood. The carpenter ran his fingers against the familiar material, and he could hear the dishes being washed inside.

Peter knocked on the door. A woman, whom the carpenter assumed to be his wife, opened the door. "Oh, Simon, where have you been?" she asked as she let Peter, along with the others, in. "The palace guards were just here, asking me if I had seen the royal carpenter. You have not seen him by any chance, have you?"

"Eh…maybe…" Peter scratched the back of his head. Yeshuah's eye twitched; were they going to give him away?

The fisherman's wife seemed to smell fear, because she looked at him all of a sudden. "Peter, who is this man?" "Oh, him," John awkwardly answered. "He was just going to ask you if—"

"I asked my husband, John, not you," she said to the younger fisherman. The housewife walked closer to Yeshuah, and he tried to back away, only to stumble, and his cloak fell off his head.

He gulped as she studied him for a little while before declaring, "Fine. You can stay here for some time. But do not think that I do not know who you are. You are the carpenter, and therefore a fugitive."

"But he's the son of the former king, dear," Peter said to his wife, and then explained to her why he was staying with them, as Yeshuah had explained to them earlier. Then she turned to him.

"You can sleep in our spare room, where you will also find extra blankets, and if there is anything you need, anything at all, just ask." She pointed to a door, which was the spare room.

Yeshuah breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you, miss…what is your name?"

"My name is Mary, sir; and you're welcome."

* * *

"Did you have any luck finding that man?" the princess asked a young soldier in the solitude of her quarters.

"No, Princess Amata," he bowed low. "There has been no sign of the carpenter."

Amata sighed, both in relief and in disappointment. As much as she wanted to see Yeshuah again, she would rather have him safe and hiding than in her presence behind bars. If only she weren't the princess; it would be easier that way, she knew.

"Soldier."

"Yes?" He snapped to attention.

"Seek out the carpenter Yeshuah personally. And when you find him, report back to me and no one else." Looking around as if someone else were watching, she motioned for him to come closer, and when he did, she whispered in his ear.

"Do not, I repeat, _do not_ tell anyone about these orders. If anyone, even my father, asks you what we were talking about, say that you were sent to fetch a suitor for me.

"And whatever you do, under any circumstances, _do not_ kill Yeshuah. Understood?"

"Yes, Your Highness," he bowed again.

"Good. Now go, and do not rest until you find him." Amata finished.

She watched the soldier walk out the room, and she sighed again, flopping backwards onto her bed tiredly. Amata wished she could just go to sleep and forget all about these affairs, but she couldn't. In fact, she hadn't had any sleep since Yeshuah had disappeared.

She looked out her window in an attempt to get away, only to see a large group, most likely her father (the one on the horse) and some of his servants walking out the gates, going towards a destination.

"…What is Father up to now?"

* * *

**(I don't know how to deal with contractions...at least in this fanfiction. Do you think the characters can say words like "don't" and "can't"? Or maybe, being in a time of monarchy, I shouldn't? Ah, whatever.)**


	9. Chapter 8: Witchcraft

Now King Caiaphas had ordered several guards to find a magician, one who was trained to use magic, and usually inclined to practice many disrespectful acts, which Yahweh had outlawed during his time as king, encouraging them to use their magic for good instead of bad.

But following Yahweh's "death" (and many years after his real death), there were sorcerers and sorceresses roaming the streets, doing as they pleased.

The men had come back, reporting that the nearest one was a witch in the town of Endor. The king, pleased with this information, took some of his servants and the captain of the royal guards, and rode off to see the witch in the guise of a peasant man.

This spectacle Princess Amata had seen out her window; and a moment after they were out of sight, the soldier she had appointed to look for Yeshuah went out on his horse gallantly.

When she could no longer see him as well, the princess got up and pulled her cloak over her shoulders. Then she headed out the palace gates.

* * *

The sun was already high in the sky when the king reached the town – and the house – he was looking for. It was very simple, nothing to give away that a magician lived there.

Getting off his horse, Caiaphas called his servants to him and said, "Your work is done here. I will go on my own while you go back to the palace." Then he pointed to the captain. "See to it that Amata is in charge while I am gone. And if she is not there – which I highly doubt – then you are in charge."

"But, Your Majesty," a servant beside him said, "It would be terribly dangerous for the king to go out on his own! Would you not at least have one of us accompany you?"

"Yes, and then I would tell the witch to turn you all into rats!" the king retorted. "This is something I must do on my own! And besides, nothing can harm the king! Not even while he is dressed as a commoner!"

"But, Your Highness—"

"OFF WITH YOU!" he bellowed. "Or else I will have your head!"

With that, the servants had nothing to do but to lead the horse back, with the captain riding on it.

The king shook his head at them, and then with head bowed to look more like a peasant, walked to the door of the witch and knocked on it.

A young woman answered the door. "What is it that you want, sir?"

"I am here to see the witch; may I ask something from her?" he asked.

She smirked. "I am the witch, sir. What services can I offer you?" She let him in, and the king almost snickered because he was so easily let in without any suspicion.

He looked around, seeing that the place was empty. "So, you do not have an assistant, or an apprentice?" She turned to him, and though frowning because he did not answer her first question, replied, "No, because they would only be a burden to me and my magic. I used to have one, but then she ran away because she was appalled by my abilities. But it was good she ran away, for she was so lovely that I couldn't stand it. Her beauty captured the hearts of men faster than I could make love potions."

"Speaking of potions," Caiaphas interjected, "that is what I am here for. Might you brew a potion that can disguise one into something they are not?"

The witch looked mildly amused. "Why would you want a potion like that, good sir?"

"It's just because I have something to take care of." The king answered simply. "You can make a potion that can transform them into anything – that is human, anyway."

"Very well, I will make a potion that will transform the one who drinks it into the likeness of my former assistant." She smiled, on the verge of laughter as she began adding ingredients to the pot. "But may I ask you, sir, why don't you just let me take care of the situation for you and save you the trouble?"

"No thank you," Caiaphas insisted, "I prefer to do this on my own."

He thought silently for a moment, and as he watched the witch brew the potion, he finally said, "But grant me this one last request," and the witch looked up, listening intently.

"I also want you to make poison for me. It has to bring death effectively, and yet make the victim's death slow and agonizing."

The witch laughed, a cross between a young woman's laughter and a cackle. "Murder?"

At first, the king hesitated. But then thoughts of a never-ending dynasty, and a carpenter choking on his dying breath filled his mind.

"Yes."

"Just wait, sir," she continued stirring, "both will be done in a few hours."

"Excellent."

* * *

Somewhere, in the little town of Nazareth, a dish fell to the ground and shattered.

Miriam, the widow of Yahweh and the former queen of Israel, suddenly felt dread. It had been a long time since she had ever felt a fear like this. Not even when Yeshuah had become a fugitive, no. It was the feeling she had when Caiaphas came to power, and threatened them with death.

"Yeshuah…" she muttered.

A knock on the door brought her back to her senses. "Who is it?" she asked, walking to the door.

"Miriam?" a friendly voice called. "It's me, Amata."


	10. Chapter 9: Another Piece of the Puzzle

**(A/N: To magdalena mariposa: hey, it's all good, bro [sis…?]. I did notice the "lol jk" thing, but I still thought you were seriously asking me to put in animals.)**

**(And here we have another chapter which still has nothing to do with the main plot [or how our protagonist is doing], but is "a piece of the greater puzzle" as William Joyce calls it.**

**And judging from the details of the flashback [if you were interested enough to look], this could really be called an AU now. But then again, wasn't it one before…?)**

**Now enjoy.**

* * *

"I can't believe it. I can't believe that my son is being persecuted by the king, no matter how hard I try." Miriam said, holding a cup of water in her hand. Amata nodded, looking absently towards the door that led to the workshop, that used to be occupied by a certain carpenter.

But now it was empty.

"Why is it that you and your husband did not tell Yeshuah who you used to be?" Amata asked, somewhat out of a whim.

"It was a matter Yahweh and I discussed a long time ago – whether or not we should tell Yeshuah that," the older woman replied. "We decided against it, mostly because of what would happen if he did know about it.

"But we never could have predicted what would happen, in this year."

The princess sighed. "There's no need to blame yourself, Miriam. If anyone should take the blame, it should be me. I got Yeshuah into this mess."

"Oh, child, do not think that way," Miriam reached over and wrapped Amata in an embrace. "It's not right to be pessimistic in circumstances like this."

"No, no, it's really my fault," Amata stated. "If I had only not fallen in love with him – if I had not even met him! – then Yeshuah would still be home, and he would not have to fear for his life…"

***** **_Flashback _*******

Amata leafed through the pages of a book, intrigued by its contents. Interesting. But then again, only Princess Amata would be interested by the records of the kings before her father.

She was just starting to read the beginning of King David's rule when someone stopped before her and bowed low. Amata feigned ignorance; it was natural for a servant – as with most "lowly" commoners – to bow before her.

But what was unnatural was that this servant had the audacity to speak to her as if they were on the same rank.

"Good afternoon, Princess Amata," he had begun. "I see that you are reading the annals of the kings."

She looked up at him. He was taller than her, his skin was only a little tanned, and he had brown hair, the likes of which she had seen so many times on so many other heads. Nothing to take her attention off of his eyes, which were indeed peculiar.

Shaking her head and trying to act haughty (so that he could leave her alone), she said to him, "Is that the way you talk to a princess?"

He blinked, and then apologized, "I am terribly sorry, Princess Amata. I was really just interested in that book you are reading."

"Huh?" She looked down at the book, held the page with her finger, and then turned to face him completely. "It's just something to pass the time with. Now, you should be going to take care of whatever…" her mind failed her for a second, but jumped right back in when the next second came, "…things you have to do."

The stranger smiled, switching his load of wood from one arm to another. "Alright. Well, it was nice meeting you, princess."

She wanted to keep talking with him, but instead she fixed her head forward and hurried down the stairs. She wanted to ask him what she meant, but no, she had to save whatever dignity she had left.

" '_Nice meeting you'?"_ she thought as she walked away. _"What kind of a greeting is that?"_

She later realized, much to her fascination for some reason, that she didn't hate him for it. Not at all. She was just amazed that someone didn't treat her like she was on a pedestal greater than the Lord – but being the girl she was, she wouldn't admit it.

***** **_End Flashback_ *******

"The Lord has a way for all things and all peoples under the sun," Miriam reassured her. "He gives and He takes away, He sows and He reaps; this moment is no different."

"But what if His plan is to let Yeshuah fall into the hands of the king?" Amata whispered. "What will we do then? For I cannot bear to let that happen."

"If that happens," the mother whispered soothingly into her ear, "then you do all in your power to free him. You are the princess, are you not?"

Amata stopped the tears from welling – at least, tried to – and muttered, "But what if I cannot do it if it does happen?"

Miriam looked down for a second, saddened by the thought of her only son dying, without anything left of her dear husband – a woman her age could only take so much. But she put on a brave face for Amata at least and said firmly, "Then we just have to accept it."

Amata and Miriam held each other at arm's length, and then let it all pour down. It wasn't fair, the former queen thought, for the princess to lose the one she loved, and they had not even spent a day as what they were meant to be: a couple so deeply in love.

Just like her and Yahweh.

Miriam remembered Yahweh in the days of their youth, on the day of their wedding. His happy face when she told him of her pregnancy, even when they were in a poor man's house. When his hand let go of hers at the second of his passing.

And she wept, as Amata had done.

* * *

**(A/N: Not the kind of chapter you were expecting? Sorry, but I thought Miriam needed a chapter of her own.**

**Much more to come of her son in the next chapter!)**


	11. Chapter 10: In The Night

**(A/N: I'm sorry for the delay! My mind was elsewhere…oh, look, a butterfly!**

**And yeah, this story is beginning to stop sounding like Snow White. I think I should change the title...but then again, the dwarves were a bit of minor characters as well...maybe.)**

* * *

It was evening when the king returned to the palace, the moon brightly lighting his way. Caiaphas fingered the two vials in his pocket. One had the power to change, and the other had the power to destroy.

It was evening when the princess too returned to the palace. Its walls were cold and threatening, as if ready to say, "Once you come in, you're never coming back out!" Amata shuddered and pulled her cloak closer to herself, trying to will away the fear.

Not wanting to be seen by anyone, she climbed over the walls, ran through the garden, and went in through an open window. She was home free until she reached the hall leading to her chambers.

"Amata? Is that you?" a voice asked. She froze and turned around. Only one person called her by that name, without a title.

"Oh, there you are, Father," Amata quickly put on a fake smile. "I was wondering where you were off to this morning."

"Well, ahem, my daughter, I have been off taking care of something." He pulled his hand out of his pocket awkwardly, and though Amata suspiciously glanced at it, she continued smiling.

Something was off, and the two of them knew it.

"And what were you doing out in the palace gardens, Amata?"

She tried not to show her fear. "I was clearing my head by taking a walk around the garden," she quickly explained.

He looked her up and down. "Why are you wearing a cloak?"

"I-It is because I get cold," Amata lied plainly (though if you felt how the wind was in the Kingdom of Israel, you could see her point).

The king raised an eyebrow, but questioned her no further.

"Your Majesty," a servant announced, running up to them. "Your supper is ready."

King Caiaphas nodded, "Alright, I will go," then turned to his daughter again. "And you, wash up for dinner."

"Yes, Father," Amata said as she hurried up the stairs. She sighed tiredly as she did.

But then again, what else did she have to do?

* * *

In the town of Capernaum, a certain young man was having the same dilemma as the princess.

Yeshuah wished he had something better to do than hide. And it wasn't getting any better with the people who kept him company.

There were indeed a few more people who knew about his true identity, but luckily they also knew how to keep quiet, unlike a certain youth who led them to Yeshuah in the first place. And so over time, the number of people who knew about the fugitive in the house of Peter outside of Peter's house grew from 4 to 10.

This number included John, James, Mary (who was from the town of Magdala, to differentiate her from Peter's wife), the other James, Andrew, Philip, Nathanael (I believe you've met them already), Matthew the tax collector, Thomas – who was an architect***** – and an ordinary townsfolk named Jude Thaddeus.

Yeshuah sighed as he rolled over on his bed. It was like having 11 babysitters for him, Peter included. (Sure, Mary – Peter's wife – did know he was Yahweh's son, but she didn't baby him as much as the others did. She was just doing what she could so he could survive.)

"_Maybe they are trying to make a messianic cult to overthrow the king and give me back 'my rightful throne',"_ the carpenter contemplated.

Whatever.

A knocking on the door roused him from his thoughts. Hearing no one get it (the knocking was rather quiet), Yeshuah decided to answer it himself, though he took a cloak just to be safe. He lowered the hood over his face so the person outside wouldn't be able to see his eyes, and opened the door.

"Good evening, sir," a young guard greeted him. "I come here by order of the princess. Tell me honestly: is the royal carpenter here? Or have you seen him anywhere?"

Yeshuah was unsure how to answer. At first, he thought it was a trap to lure him in. But when he looked around more closely, he was sure that the young guard was really on his own.

"_And besides, Amata, not the king, ordered him to find me,"_ Yeshuah reasoned. _"I can trust her."_

"Um…yes, he is here," the carpenter half-muttered.

The soldier nodded, looking almost relieved and tired, unfitting for his age. Then after looking around and making sure no one else was watching, like the carpenter had done earlier, he went closer to the aforementioned and declared, "You are the carpenter Yeshuah, are you not?"

"Huh?" Yeshuah stepped back, startled. "P-pardon?"

"The way you hide your face. I can see you are Yeshuah, the son of Yosef." The soldier explained, and the fugitive softened, before pulling back the hood a little.

"Yes, I am," he admitted. "What do I have to do now?"

The soldier looked him in the eye, and said, "I have to report back to Princess Amata. She will tell me what I have to do next." Then he returned to his horse, mounting it.

"My name is Simon," the soldier said. "That way, you will know how to find me."

"Alright, sir," Yeshuah nodded, kind of dazed.

Then Simon rode off, information of the carpenter's whereabouts in tow.

Yeshuah closed the door behind him. He wasn't surprised to see Peter standing by, waiting for him.

"Who was that?" the fisherman asked. The young man sighed tiredly, and then answered plainly.

"I am now sure he is an ally."

* * *

*** - I've heard this story once about St. Thomas, stating that he was an architect. Something like that.**

**Sorry if it sucked. But whatever.**

**Oh, and thanks for 500+ views!**


	12. Chapter 11: When Words Fail

**(A/N: This thing is starting to stop sounding like Snow White, due to the many fillers I put in here. But what else can I do?)**

* * *

The next day, everything was as normal as it could be.

Or at least, some people _tried_ to be as normal as they could be.

The king and the princess went about their normal duties, all the while wondering about the boy Yeshuah. Amata worried herself with his wellbeing. Caiaphas concerned himself with the carpenter's downfall.

Yeshuah and his allies were trying to go on with their daily lives, trying to keep the biggest secret the Kingdom of Israel could ever hold.

But the Lord, the God of Israel, saw one thing that was not pretending.

Simon, the young soldier, riding his steed to the palace.

He was eager to make his report to the princess about Yeshuah, the son of Yosef. And to know what he should do next.

Because already, he felt sympathy for the fugitive. Something told him that there was more to this simple man than meets the eye.

"Simon! There you are!" the captain of the royal guard said when called. "We were looking for you when we found out you did not show up for the roll call!"

"I am terribly sorry, sir," Simon apologized, "but I was busy, you see. The princess sent me on a mission."

"Is it one that concerns the ex-royal carpenter."

"No," the young man quickly lied. "I-I was fetching a suitor for her."

The captain looked him over. "Where is this so-called suitor?"

"Ah, he said that he would come by himself. He had…too much treasure to fit on my horse." The captain raised an eyebrow, not amused. "So you did not just give him your horse, soldier? Where are your manners? Are you scared of the desert serpents?"

"What? No!" This was not the kind of conversation that Simon had been hoping for. "I mean…it's a long story."

"Then cut it short, soldier. I do not have all day."

The young man froze. What kind of explanation should he make?

"T-the man did not want to ride on the horse of a lowly servant such as myself." Simon finally answered. "I decided to follow his wishes and go on ahead."

"Does he have his own escorts?"

"Yes…?"

"…Alright. But if I find out that you made that up just to excuse yourself from sleeping with a harlot during the night, then you will immediately be discharged." The captain opened the gates to let him through, and Simon had to keep himself from letting a smirk slip out.

* * *

"So, the carpenter Yeshuah is hiding in the town of Capernaum in the house of a fisherman, am I correct?"

"You repeated perfectly, Your Highness," Simon bowed to Princess Amata.

"Very well. I will give you orders to watch over him incognito*****." She declared. "Report to me if something seems wrong. And if anyone asks, tell them that you are sent to spy on an enemy kingdom."

"But, Your Highness, if the king hears about my 'missions', then will he not get suspicious?"

Amata sighed. "I believe he is occupying himself with something else. And it has to do with this same Yeshuah."

Simon's eyes widened as he realized what she meant.

"Your Highness, is the king…?"

"Yes. Be on your guard against anything or any_one_ that seems suspicious."

"…Very well, Princess Amata."

"May the Lord keep you, young soldier."

With that, Simon walked out of the room, ready to call on his horse to take him once again to the district of Galilee, and all the while making up an excuse just to get out of the captain's way.

Amata got up and began walking towards the king's chambers once she couldn't hear his footsteps anymore.

If she recalled clearly, there was gossip going around the kingdom that King Yahweh once had an ark – a magical chest that could answer any question. They further said that King Caiaphas now had it in his possession.

Perhaps it wasn't too late to find out if those rumors were true after all…

* * *

**Overall, I don't like this chapter very much. I don't even know what a whole kingdom would do when faced with this kind of situation, or how a monarchy works, or whatever.**

*** - I don't think I'm using this word in the right grammar. Even if I do know what it means…**

**Reviews? Anyone?**


	13. Chapter 12: Encounter With The Ark

**(A/N: Sorry, school was **_**really**_** eating away at me. I'm beginning to hate this story for some reason; I don't really feel like making any more fillers before getting to the main thing, the reason why you all decided to read this in the first place. Terribly sorry.)**

* * *

Amata opened the door a crack, to make sure that her father was not inside. Once this was done, she tip-toed inside carefully (she wasn't wearing any shoes so she wouldn't make too much noise) and closed the door behind her.

"I never noticed how large Father's chambers were until now," she mumbled to herself as she walked around, trying to figure out where the fabled ark was. Not in the shelves…not under the bed…not in plain sight…and there were certainly no doors that she saw that would lead to another room.

"Well, it does not look like it's in here," the princess sighed, pacing around the room one last time. "I guess I will have to look somewhere else in the—WHOA!"

Her foot had just innocently stepped on a rug, and the rug just caved in, leaving a hole in the floor. She winced. There were splinters embedded in the rug, and consequently, her right foot.

Amata gently pulled her leg out of the hole, and as she did, the rug fell in, revealing a broken wooden door.

She blinked, then smiled.

"It looks like I have found what I was looking for."

* * *

Amata climbed down the rope ladder, ignoring the pain her splintered foot brought her (even if she did pull out the wood pieces). While she did so, she observed that the walls of the underground cavern were lined with unlit oil lamps. She need not worry about lack of light, though, for she had a candle with her.

The princess walked deeper into the cave, surprised at everything she saw. There were scrolls and books piled up at the walls, along with little clay jars and large vases that she was sure she could fit in if she tried. There were even inscribed stone tablets describing events in the history of Israel.

There was no doubt that it was a hidden library.

But why would the king hide these treasures all away, she wondered.

At the end of the path Amata was walking, she found a door. Without hesitation, she tried the door. It was unlocked. She swung it fully open to reveal, sitting in the middle of the room, the golden ark.

She inhaled sharply as she approached. "So, this is the magical ark, huh?"

"Indeed it is."

Amata yelped. She turned around, moving her candle around to light the room. There was no other person in the room besides her.

"Who's there?"

"I am."

The princess turned to face the ark. It had indeed answered those questions, for this chest always answered when asked a question.

"You. The ark. You are real."

Silence followed. Amata then figured that it could only talk when asked questions, so that was what she went for.

"You are real?"

"Yes," answered the ark, "though I am as only as real as you would like me to be, Princess."

"_How did it know it was me?"_ "What does that mean?"

"It means that if you are still skeptical about my abilities, then so be it. And I knew it was you, because who else would have your inquisitive nature?"

She blinked as she realized it could read her mind – at least when she questioned it in her mind. Shaking her head, she decided to do what she had come for.

"I have a question for you. Do you mind if I ask it?"

"By all means, go ahead."

"…Where is my father right now? And what is he doing?"

"Your father is strolling around the palace, plotting over how to get rid of the man who is after your heart.

"Pardon?"

"Yeshuah, son of the carpenter."

Amata held a hand to her forehead tiredly. Just as she had expected, "Is Yeshuah safe?"

"For the time being, yes. You have placed him in good hands: the hands of the Lord."'

She didn't know what to say about the first sentence, but she let it drop. "One more thing. I know that I have heard your voice before, but where have I heard it?"

The princess was surprised to hear self-conscious laughter come before a reply. "That you will find out for yourself, Princess. The tone of my voice really only depends on who is asking the questions."

She didn't have time to raise an eyebrow, though, before the ark spoke again.

"Hide in a vase outside!" the ark commanded. "And do not come out until you are sure he is gone!"

With that, Amata flung open the door, found a vase, and jumped in just as footsteps echoed in the cave close enough to be heard from where she was. She held her breath, trying not to get caught. But all by herself, there was really only one thing she could think of.

"_The ark talked without being asked to…"_


	14. Chapter 13: A Soldier's Welcome

**(A/N: I finally made an outline for this story, so I can figure out what happens in the next chapter. Last filler of the story, hopefully! As well as my lame attempt to sneak in an itty-bitty piece of humor.)**

* * *

King Caiaphas walked around the cave, trying to figure out who had the audacity to wander into his secret underground rooms. He was coming up with a good plan to kill that darned Yeshuah, and he had just come into his chambers so he could now rest without being bothered. But when he noticed the rug misplaced and the hole in his floor, he knew something was up. So off he went, but not before commissioning the new royal carpenter to repair the broken trapdoor.

He heard a door being flung open, and very soft footsteps. He walked on further and faster, knowing this was the person who had broken in.

He looked around. There was no one there. Just him, his collection of historical treasures, and the door leading to the ark.

The ark.

He opened the door. "Speak, o wise ark!" Caiaphas called. "Where is the one who has broken into your secret chambers?"

The ark, for once, was silent before answering, "No one has broken into these chambers; a maid accidentally broke the trapdoor while she was cleaning your room."

"Then what about the sounds I heard when I came here?"

"You are very tired, and you were hearing things."

Caiaphas nodded, before bowing and walking out of the room, then out of the cave. Once Amata was sure she couldn't hear him anymore, she climbed out of the vase carefully.

"Awfully gullible, was he not?" The ark said. Amata's jaw hung open when she heard it, and she turned to face the open door.

"You…you talked without…being asked a question…!"

"That is indeed true. I am self-aware, but I am only able to talk without being asked to in the presence of people with good intentions. I can only give answers in the presence of people like your father, whether it be truth or lies."

"But…for all I know," the princess assumed a brave stance, "you never lied to Father about Yeshuah."

There was a sigh. "There are things that are revealed to me and things that are not. In the case of the latter, only the Lord God is privy to such things. Sometimes I do not expect the outcome of what would happen when I reply. But when I do, and if it is something bad, I lie."

"That does not make any sense whatsoever," the princess crossed her arms.

"You will understand when you think about it more, Princess." The ark simply said.

Looking towards the exit of the cave, Amata sighed, and then asked, "So how do you say I could get out of here without running into my father?"

"There is a secret exit behind the vase you had just hidden in moments ago. It leads to the garden, where you can get back in the palace through an open window next to a sycamore tree."

She looked at the vase, and then said, "Well, thank you, 'wise ark'." Amata mock-bowed before moving the vase to reveal a hole big enough to fit in.

* * *

The horse rode into Capernaum, its young rider looking around him. Yes, this was the town the ex-royal carpenter was hiding. And most were unaware of it.

The townsfolk watched Simon ride into the city gates, trying to comprehend what this meant. Lips began moving. Children peered up at him curiously. Simon was trying to avoid their glances; even though he was really wearing commoner clothes, riding on a horse was a sign of high rank. Feeling the situation getting more and more awkward, he got off his horse and held on to its reins instead.

"It, um, belongs to my master," he fibbed. Little by little, the citizens went back to daily life, though the kids were still watching him out of interest.

He walked the horse through town, until he stopped at the lake. Simon craned his neck to look at the boats on the water, assuming they were fishermen.

"_How am I supposed to know which one is Simon Peter?"_ the young soldier asked himself. He looked around, intending to question someone – at least someone who didn't look suspicious.

"Sir, are you lost?" Simon spun around to see two people standing behind him. A man and a woman. He wanted to nod, but instead shook his head. "No. Pardon me," he began, "but would you know of a Simon Peter, son of the fisherman Jonah?"

The two exchanged a glance at each other, then turned back to him. "Yes…we do," the man answered, scratching the back of his neck in an emotion that could be called nervousness. "In fact, Peter is one of our good friends."

"Really?" His youthful face brightened at the sound of that, but deciding he looked too excited, he cleared his throat not soon after and said, "Well, I am looking for this same Peter. Would you care to direct me to his household?"

The two looked at each other, a look of nervousness almost completely hidden. Simon sighed. It was a too straightforward question, he knew, but—

"Alright," the man said, "we will take you to Simon Peter's household."

* * *

Mary looked up from her cooking to hear someone knocking at the door. She put down the bread dough, wiped her hands on her apron, and hurried to the door. She swung it open to find James, his friend Mary of Magdala, and a young man.

"Good afternoon, James and Mary," Peter's wife nodded at them, and turned her head towards Simon. "And just who is this young man?"

"His name is Simon," Mary of Magdala answered. "He was looking for Peter – has he come by here by any chance?" Mary shook her head. "No, he's still fishing at the Lake of Galilee with his brother and father."

"If that is the case, then, miss," Simon said without hesitation, "then may I stay here, just to wait for him?"

The auburn-haired woman looked at him before opening the door a bit wider, gesturing for him to come in.

"Thank you," he nodded at her before stepping into the household. Mary watched the young soldier before turning to James and Mary of Magdala. "How about you two? Do any of you need anything?" "No, thank you," James answered. "We will just be on our way."

"Very well."

So off Mary of Magdala and her friend James went to mind their own business, while Mary wife of Peter closed the door.

"Do you need anything, young man?" she asked Simon, who was seated on a chair at the table. Simon shook his head, saying, "No, thank you, miss."

Mary nodded as well, and then went back to the kitchen to work on the dough.

Simon watched her for a little while, and then his eyes darted around the room, looking for Yeshuah. Where was the carpenter?

His eyes landed on a spare room, from which he heard voices. There were three different voices, all in all; two of them he did not recognize, but one he had heard before.

Carefully, he snuck over to that room, making sure that Mary was busying herself with baking the bread, and then knocked very lightly on the door.

Matthew and Thomas were talking to Yeshuah about their jobs and asking about what his father Yahweh (Yosef?) was like when a light knocking sounded on the door.

"Who could that be?" Matthew asked, looking up from his writing. "It must be Peter's wife," Thomas guessed. "She must be checking up on Yeshuah again." The tax collector got up and walked over to the door, and opened it to find the young soldier.

"Oh, excuse me, sirs," Simon said as he looked around the room. Thomas looked up to notice the newcomer. "Who are you?" he asked. Simon swallowed mutely, and replied, "Um, my name is Simon. I was looking for Yeshuah, the ex-royal carpenter of King Caiaphas."

Yeshuah glanced up and saw the soldier he had seen the other night. He said to Matthew and Thomas, "Do not worry, you two. I know this good fellow." He smiled up. "Simon, is there anything you have to tell me?"

Simon walked up to Yeshuah, and said in a low voice, "Princess Amata ordered me to watch over you. Would it be helpful if I could ask your friend Simon Peter that I stay here?"

"Why are you asking permission from me?" the carpenter asked. "Of course you can ask him that you can stay here."

Simon, trying to hide his excitement, stiffly bowed and then walked out of the room.

Matthew and Thomas watched him leave, a puzzled expression on their faces.

* * *

The sky was pitch black when the king shut the door to his chambers. He didn't want anyone to see what would happen, because it would ruin his plan. The plan that he had thought up long and hard.

The plan to eliminate Yeshuah, once and for all.

He took a small box out from under his bed. Caiaphas opened it to reveal the two vials that he had gotten from the witch of Endor.

"I will make a potion that will transform the one who drinks it into the likeness of my former assistant," the witch had said. She had also said that her former assistant also used to captivate men and make them fall in love with her.

"_Well then,"_ King Caiaphas thought as he popped open the transformation vial, _"let's see how effective her form really is."_

The plan was already being put into action.

* * *

**What is with this chapter…I think it's replaced "When Words Fail" as my least favorite chapter. It's really…(tries to put expression together)…something. Just not the type.**

**The next one will be even better. In fact, I'm sure it'll move to the part you've all been waiting for!**

**So review! Or not. Whatever.**


	15. Chapter 14: Something Is Wrong

**(A/N: Yeah! We're finally here! Get ready!)**

**Disclaimer: I still own nothing. Except for this alternate universe of sorts.**

* * *

When morning had come, the whole palace was in worry. Maids and servants and guards ran around, looking for their king. No one had seen King Caiaphas after nightfall the night before, and when they found out the king was not in his chambers the next day, there had been panic.

Princess Amata rose and opened the door of her chambers, only to find people rushing past her. She heard them calling for her father and for the Lord to have mercy on them.

"Servants! Guards! Maids! Quiet yourselves and keep calm!" she yelled, and the hall was silenced. One maid ran up to her and clutched the girl's dress. "Oh, Your Highness! Your father the King is missing!"

"What?" Amata asked, eyes widening. "Father is gone?" "Yes, Your Highness," the captain of the guards nodded somberly. "The king was not in his chambers this morning."

The princess slowly bent down to comfort the maid who was clinging to her dress, crying hysterically. "Calm down. We will search for him. Guards!" she called, and all the guards ran up to her. "Yes, Your Highness?"

"Go. Search the entire kingdom for my father. Do not rest until he is found."

"Yes, Your Highness!" With that, they hurried out, the captain of the guard leading the way. Amata, meanwhile, stood up and clutched her chest.

"Please, no…" She ran out into the hall, out into the gardens, and out of the gates. She ran all the way to Nazareth (which, by way of the desert, wasn't too far away if you ran), and ran to the house of Miriam.

Amata opened the door, searched left and right, and then ran up the stairs, where she found the older woman lying on her bed, sweating profusely, eyes full of pain. "Miriam!" she called, running up to the former queen. "What is the matter?"

"Oh, it's dreadful, child," Miriam wailed, running a hand over her face. Amata wanted to pull Miriam into a warm embrace, but first she had to pull herself together. If they were all hysterical, this would never work.

"Why? What happened, Miriam?" she asked. The older turned to the princess, and said, "I was unable to sleep, because I had a terrible nightmare.

"I saw my son, my only son Yeshuah, being deceived by someone he trusted – a traitor. My son was betrayed and then-then he was killed! Oh, Lord, do not let this happen!" Miriam began to cry openly, because of the things that were laid in her dream.*****

"_As it stands, though, we have no time for dreams,"_ Amata thought as she finally hugged the mother of her love. _"The reality, if it does happen, will hurt more."_

* * *

As Miriam wept in Nazareth, a woman by the name of Mary left her house in Capernaum.

"I am just going to get some food from the marketplace," she informed the fugitive in her house. "Are you sure you will be alright here?"

"Do not worry about a thing, miss," Simon called after her. "Do not forget I am here to protect Yeshuah!"

Mary giggled a bit. "That is good to know, Simon." Then she looked at Yeshuah. "But should anything happen, just have the young man come to us, alright?"

"Alright, Mary," Yeshuah said. "It will be alright. No one of the king's service knows my whereabouts – except for Simon here, but he was commissioned by the princess." Mary nodded, and then closed the door.

As soon as Mary closed the door, it opened again, this time revealing James – with no Mary in tow. He had been on his own, since Mary of Magdala had business to take care of – of course, business that did not involve anything of her former business.

Or her business before that.

"Hello, James," Yeshuah waved. "Yes, hello, Yeshuah. And good morning to you too, Simon. Though not all is a grand morning."

"How come?" The carpenter asked. James scratched the back of his neck. "Well, there has been this talk passing through the kingdom. Since John delivers fish to the king******, he heard about it first, and the rumor has been spreading around the town – no, the entire of Galilee, if you say that there were others that have been spreading the news besides the young son of thunder."

"What happened?" Simon pressed on.

James bit his lip. "They say the king has gone missing," he said in a low mutter.

"Come again?" Yeshuah cupped a hand to his ear, though he knew what his friend had said – he just needed to be sure.

"They say King Caiaphas is missing," James said a bit louder. "They did not find him in the morning. The palace is a nervous wreck, and the royal guard is all over the kingdom trying to find where he went. Many fear an enemy came and took him."

The young soldier looked down at the ground. "Who would do this?" he asked. "I am not sure – though the gossip has pointed fingers at either an insane kidnapper or an even crazier killer or even the Gentile kings. It all makes no sense whatsoever."

Yeshuah nodded. "The king surely could not have been kidnapped, though – in my days as the royal carpenter, I cannot say there was ever a secret entrance that I know of. No crack in the wall for a kidnapper, no secret trapdoors."

"Maybe they just did it now?" James reasoned. "If it were a kidnapper, they would have made an entrance themselves and—"

A knock on the door interrupted the dark-haired man from going any further. Simon stood up and swung the door open.

"Mary!" James exclaimed in surprise. "I thought you were busy with your weaving." Mary of Magdala blinked before answering, "I was, but then I supposed I would come by." Then she looked around. "Is Yeshuah here?"

"Yes, of course, Mary," James said, pointing to Yeshuah, who stood and greeted her. "Good morning." She nodded, her eyes darting to the bag she had brought with her for a split second before turning back to Yeshuah.

Simon noted Mary's subtle emotion. The captain had always told him that if people averted their gaze, they were either nervous and/or guilty of something.

More often than not, it was out of guilt rather than nervousness.

Simon quickly shook it off. He knew Mary couldn't do anything wrong, now that she was reformed. Especially not while her best friend was in the room.

"So, I brought over some things," Mary spoke again, pointing to her bag. "…I thought that you would need it." Yeshuah smiled. "Thank you, Mary, that was kind of you." The former prostitute nodded, kind of braver now. Then she put the bag down on the table.

"What did you get? Food, perhaps?" James went closer to the bag and peered at its contents when a hand clamped over the entrance. He looked up to see Mary scowling down at him, but before he could say something, the scowl disappeared in a flash.

"Why, as a matter of fact, it _is_ food," she said. "Why are you so suspicious?" James put his hands up in defense. "I am not suspicious. I was just wondering what was inside."

"What did you think?" She nudged him playfully. "That I am hiding a cat in my bag? Oh, do not be so silly, sir."

James nodded, "Of course," and then walked over to Yeshuah.

"What is it, James?" Yeshuah asked. James's eyes darted from across the room – where Mary was looking through her bag – then back to the carpenter.

"Something is wrong. Can you feel it? Mary is acting rather strangely today." He stated. Yeshuah looked over to Mary as well, and then she noticed that she was the center of attention, causing her to blush in embarrassment.

"I do not think that she is acting strange at all," the young man said to his friend. "She might just be in a hurry, since she told Peter – who told me – yesterday that she had something to attend to."

James leaned in closer to whisper in Yeshuah's ear. "She called me 'sir'. Normally Mary calls me by name."

Yeshuah blinked. "Maybe you heard wrong. Or it is because of the fact that you _are_ older than her by a year. After all, the both of you have not been together for too long, only a couple of days."

James turned to glance at his friend, then nodded slowly.

"I hope that that is the only problem."

At that exact moment, Mary walked up to Yeshuah. "Excuse me," she said, picking up her bag and holding it tightly to herself, "but can I talk to you, Yeshuah? It will take only a short time."

Noticing James and Simon's looks, she quickly added, "Alone."

Yeshuah nodded, leading her into Peter's spare room. When she was inside, he followed suit, closing the door behind him.

James and Simon stared at the door, feeling anxiety creep up their spines. There was some feeble mumbling coming from the other side of the door, but no key words to indicate that anything serious was happening, or what they were talking about at all. It irked them all the more.

"You seem tensed, sir," Simon observed. "I am," James admitted, not turning away from the door.

He sighed. It felt like something was going to go wrong. A feeling all too similar to having your heart broken. It's something you feel in both your chest and your gut.

It's not pretty.

Simon stared at his companion before wearily turning back to the door. The young soldier felt fear. He's never felt fear very often, so he knew the older man had a right to be tensed.

_Thump!_

The two sprang to attention as soon as it sounded. Not a second later, the door opened, and out bounded Mary of Magdala, running out of the room and Simon Peter's house, and eventually into the streets.

James stared after her, but not after Simon let out a cross between a surprised shout and a gasp.

"Why? What's the matter?" the dark-haired man asked the young soldier. Simon pointed at something on the floor. James immediately paled.

It was Yeshuah, lying facedown on the floor like the first time they had encountered him.

Only this time, his blue and brown eyes were wide and lifeless.

Without hesitation, James whirled around and ran out the door to follow Mary.

The cat was out of the bag.

* * *

*** - Based on my class studying the story "Ibong Adarna". The king has a dream about his youngest son getting betrayed by two people. The two turn out to be *spoiler*. Anyway, if you're Filipino and have read the story, you should know what I'm talking about.**

**** - This was one of the theories saying just how exactly John knew the High Priest in the Gospel of John. Or maybe it's something else. Something about fish. Meh. Anyway, I'm sure it's not my own, so don't sue me for it.**

**Sorry for taking so long with it. Just that I was stuck on a little while before continuing. Moral of the story: always write your fanfics on paper first. Then you can edit it on the computer.**

**Reviews? They'll let me know you care. (And I might come up with the next chapter a little faster.**

**Though it'll still be slow progress…ugh.)**


	16. Chapter 15: In For The Kill

**(A/N: What will happen, now that the entire cause of all their trouble is down for the count? Here is the aftermath!)**

* * *

Yeshuah nodded, leading Mary of Magdala into Peter's spare room. When she was inside, he followed suit, closing the door behind him.

"Alright, Mary," the carpenter said, nodding at her. "What did you want to tell me?"

"I was just wondering, really," Mary said, stifling a nervous laugh, "but I was wondering: if you were not the friend of the princess, would you still try to take over the kingdom?" Yeshuah contemplated what she had asked for a few seconds before replying, "Not really, what with my name on the list of the most wanted criminals. And besides, would I really know at all that I were the son of the former king if it were not for Princess Amata?"

Mary stiffened for a bit before she pulled out a piece of bread. "And how _did_ you come to know that you were the son of Yahweh anyway?"

"It was under some less comfortable circumstances," he began. "The king, it seemed, had sent an assassin to kill me, but he let me go free. He said that I was being targeted by King Caiaphas because I was in love with the princess—"

He was cut off by Mary handing him a piece of the bread. "So you are in love with the princess." She deadpanned. No hint of teasing or disappointment. Just a look akin to hate.

Yeshuah sighed. "Yes…I am…in love with Princess Amata."

She smiled, as if the piece of bread were a device to record their conversation.

"You must be hungry, Yeshuah. A little bread would be good for you."

Yeshuah looked down at it, then hesitantly took it from her. As he lifted it to his mouth, he looked at her and observed her expectant face.

"_Something is wrong. Can you feel it? Mary is acting rather strangely today."_

The carpenter realized that James was right after he put the morsel into his mouth.

Within a few milliseconds, Yeshuah felt his throat begin to constrict. His hand instinctively went up to it, clutching it.

"His breath will still,"***** he thought he heard Mary mutter. He didn't have much time to think about it, though, because then something ran down his arm, eventually going through his entire body. Yeshuah couldn't move. He sank to the floor.

"His blood congeal,"***** Mary whispered, this time with excitement in her voice. Her eyes shined with a happiness that he did not like. He tried to say something, but only a feeble whimper came out.

This would be the last sight the poor carpenter saw before his vision faded into nothingness.

Yeshuah didn't even have time to close his eyes.

* * *

James ran down the busy streets of Capernaum, trying to find Mary of Magdala. He cursed silently when he realized that she was further ahead of him than he had estimated.

"_That wretch,"_ he thought uncharacteristically. _"I will wring her neck as soon as I find her!"_

He shoved through the marketplace, earning instant annoyed looks from the others citizens there. They yelled from behind him, trying to get him to come back and apologize properly.

But it could wait, for as soon as he found Mary he would expect her to apologize properly as well.

A few stalls later, he bumped into someone, knocking them onto the ground. A "her", to be exact. They landed in a cloud of dust, the both of them coughing in the wake of the events.

"Excuse me, but you should watch where you—James?!"

James opened his eyes. There, right under him, was Mary of Magdala, and in such an embarrassing position. He felt the need to blush, but a tenth of a second later he remembered that it was not the time.

True to his (unspoken) word, he pulled her to her feet, albeit violently, and pinned her to a pole holding up a stall.

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM?" James yelled, his hands tight around her neck. "TELL ME WHAT YOU DID!"

"W-what?" Mary choked out, her hands going up to try and loosen his hands from around her neck, which he had no intentions of doing. "What are you talking about, James?"

"You know _exactly_ what I am talking about, woman," he growled. "You were at the house of Peter, you lured him in and you killed him using whatever means that you had!"

"Who…who was it…?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Yeshuah, son of King Yahweh." He stated coldly, shoving her up the pole so that her feet dangled inches above the ground. "He is dead because of you."

The masses gasped at the thought. The son of King Yahweh? Surely it was impossible!

And so did Mary, when she heard that Yeshuah was gone.

"L-let…me…go…" she whimpered, trying desperately to get out of his grip. "I…was never…never there…t-today…"

James looked her over, trying to find proof of that, when he noticed that she had no bag with her. Knowing her, if she had stopped and let down her guard, she would have it with her at that point…

He instantly let go, and Mary slumped to the ground, taking in deep breaths, while James looked down at the ground, unable to comprehend what was going on.

If it wasn't her, then who…?

A hand clamped on his shoulder, forcing James to turn around. He was met with the cold eyes of the captain of the guard.

"You know, sir," the captain said, "that it is a crime to mention the name of either Yahweh or Yeshuah, the son of Yosef."

"W-what?" James muttered, blinking. "I do not recall if there was ever such a law!"

"There is one now, commoner."

The cold voice came from behind the captain, and it came from who else but the king himself! Both James and Mary gasped.

"But…I thought he was…" Mary muttered. "Missing?" King Caiaphas finished for the former prostitute. "You see, woman, I was just out on an undercover mission that would possibly save the kingdom. Not something a harlot like you would understand."

"Mary is no harlot, not anymore!" James screamed out. "What she goes through every day of her life is something that you would never understand!"

"Oh, is it now?" King Caiaphas raised his eyebrows, and then walked past the dark-haired man being held captive by the captain. While the king was doing this, James couldn't help but look the king over. And for the first time, he noticed that there was a familiar-looking bag hanging around the king's shoulder.

"You heartless monster…" James muttered through gritted teeth, trying to escape the captain's grasp. Caiaphas smiled at his prisoner. "A heartless monster, indeed. But even if I were," he leaned in close and smirked, an expression that James did not like, "I am the king. And you have no say in what I will do, or what I have done."

James clenched his jaw again, and did two of the most insulting things that could ever be done to a king, or anyone superior to him.

"I would have to wash your mouth with soap for that," Caiaphas said as he wiped away the spit on his shoulder. "No matter, the jail is sure to make you change your mind. Guards, cuff him and take him away."

By the time Mary is aware of what had just happened, as were the rest of the crowd, James was already handcuffed and led away.

Mary covered her mouth, and got to her feet, then sped off. Someone has to tell the others.

* * *

*** - Something that I got from an old storybook of mine. 'Course, it just **_**had**_** to be the Disney version of Snow White.**

**More to come!**


	17. Chapter 16: A Warning To The People

**(A/N: Sorry I haven't been updating much; this week, and the past one, has been really hectic. With getting a pretty bad fever and school projects, I already wrote this chapter, but was too lazy to put it up. Whatever. Anyway, here it is, so fret no more, my people!)**

**(And I know I'm being cliché. Pretty much.)**

* * *

It took several minutes for Simon's brain to process what had happened and pull himself together.

_Yeshuah is dead_ was the first thought to register.

And soon followed _report to the princess at once._

Many others came in quick succession as he got up, ran to the door, untied his horse, and got on it, hoping he wouldn't trample anyone – at least, wouldn't trample anyone innocent.

Mary, Peter's wife, was the first to notice the young soldier's commotion, having come back from the market. She certainly did not want to run into any more soldiers after hearing that someone had just been arrested in the same place she had been just minutes ago. (The cries of protest coming from the prisoner, who was stuck between two burly guards, sounded oddly familiar.)

"Simon!" she called after him. "Where are you going?" He pulled on the horse's reins to stop it from going further, then turned to face the fisherman's wife. "I have to go back to the palace. Something terrible has happened."

On instinct, her heart skipped a beat.

"What exactly happened, soldier?" she asked, sounding like a mother who was about to hear that something terrible had happened to her child.

Simon shut his eyes, as if trying to block out a disconcerting memory. "N-nothing. Just ask James when you find him. Or rather, when he finds Mary of Magdala, if you want details."

Without another word, he snapped the reins and off the horse and its rider went. Mary watched him leave, and then walked to her house. She looked up at it; for some reason, now it seemed more imposing.

Trying not to get unnerved, she reached for the door to open it, but hesitated at the last second. What lay behind the door? Even Simon did not want to think about it.

She bit her lip, then decided to go get her husband. Things could get out of hand.

* * *

John, the youngest of the sons of Zebedee, noticed the woman running through the streets and towards him and his brother, who were mending their nets at the time. Upon closer inspection, he realized that it was the former prostitute, Mary of Magdala.

"Mary," John straightened up. "Do you have any news for us, miss?"

"I do not have enough information, or enough words to explain everything to you," Mary replied in a tone unbefitting to her; it was too straightforward for a shy person like her. "But I can only tell you one thing: Yeshuah needs you."

James, John's brother, looked at Mary and stood up with the barest hint of anxiety on his face. "What happened, woman?" he urged.

"Sir, Yeshuah needs you!" Mary repeated, but this time she shook her head and sounded more like a scared child. "Go, please."

With that, Mary left to go find the others. James and John looked at each other, and then turned to tell their fellow fishermen, only to see that Peter's wife had beaten them to it.

* * *

Princess Amata walked through the palace halls, trying to figure out what would be her next move – or rather, how Yeshuah was doing. She felt a little more scared, especially now that Miriam had told her about that nightmare…

"_Calm down,"_ she thought to herself. _"It was all just a bad dream. Yeshuah is safe somewhere in Capernaum. He's perfectly fine."_ She sighed heavily, thinking these thoughts to be her consolation.

It all came crashing down when she saw Simon running towards her.

"_Report to me if something seems wrong."_

And she knew that it was all terribly, terribly wrong.

"Princess!" Simon stopped in front of her, panting to catch his breath. "Princess Amata! Yeshuah is—"

Amata held up a hand to stop him. "…Yeshuah is in trouble. That is the situation, is it not?"

Simon nodded, and then asked, "Would you want to come and see what happened?" The princess looked a bit at the young soldier before nodding, following him to the horse.

* * *

**(A/N: I was planning on making this chapter a little longer, but I need to make up for all the time that I haven't been updating. So I decided to give you all this while I write the next chapter. And hopefully, it'll be a faster update, since we're already almost home free from school!)**

**(One more thing: thank all of you readers for 900+ views!)**


	18. Chapter 17: The Breakdown

**(A/N: Sorry about late updating [if my updating can be called late]. And Elly194, yes, I'll get back to you soon enough. On PMs, though.)**

* * *

By the time Simon the soldier and Princess Amata has come back to the house of Simon Peter, the group of Yeshuah's allies had already gathered outside the fisherman's door. Amata could hear them asking among themselves, "What is the meaning of this? How could this happen?"

The princess didn't even wait for the horse to stop; she leapt off the steed while it was still running and immediately regretted her decision as she fell flat on her face. "Your Highness!" the young soldier pulled the horse's reins, causing it to stop, and got off more gracefully than Amata had. "Are you alright?" he asked, coming to her and pulling her to her feet. She nodded, still feeling shaky and took a moment to regain her balance.

"It is the princess!" John and Matthew exclaimed, and then they bowed low in unison. The rest soon followed their lead, until a few seconds later when Amata gestured for them to stand up.

Simon instantly paled when he saw Mary of Magdala standing amongst the others, and James was not with her. He stepped forward, his steps beginning with a nervous walk, as if he was in a trance, and ending with a quick and angry trot. When Mary of Magdala saw this, she flinched and took a step back, as if to run, but Simon was faster and had already grabbed her by the arm, his youthful face turning furious.

"Why are you here?" he asked. "Have you not caused enough harm? And what have you done with James? Killed him as well, I suppose!"

Gasps rose from several of those gathered at Peter's house. Before Mary could say anything in her defense, Simon spoke once more.

"Has she not told you?" the soldier asked the group. "This woman is guilty of killing the carpenter Yeshuah this morning!"

"I am not guilty!" Mary finally found her voice. "Someone else came and killed Yeshuah! James himself knows it to be true!"

"Is she talking about me?" James, the son of Zebedee, asked.

"No, she is probably talking about her friend, the other James," Thomas clarified.

"That James was also with me when Yeshuah died!" Simon said, his grip on Mary's arm tightening. "He saw it! It was your face we saw. You lured Yeshuah in and killed him!"

"I was framed!" the former prostitute cried, clenching her teeth at the pain of Simon's nails digging into her skin. "You have to believe me!"

The others began murmuring amongst themselves, wondering whether Simon or Mary was telling the truth. The accused lowered her head and lamented, "If only James were here. He would know what to do," in a voice lower than a whisper, so low that Simon would not hear it even if he bothered to listen.

Amata walked past the crowd and into the house, nodding at its owners before entering the spare room. No one had bothered to – or rather, had the heart to move the body from the room, where it lay. The princess closed her fists and took a deep breath when she set a foot into the chambers.

The air she was inhaling caught in her throat as she saw the carpenter lying on the ground.

His arm, the arm he had often used to hold his hammer as he pounded away on some piece of wood while he talked just about anything, was positioned as if he had tried to grab something before his untimely passing, but failed.

"_No one could ever keep a firm grip on anything when they die, anyway,"_ Amata thought. She had come to learn this at a terribly young age, witnessing something a little girl should not have to see.

She crouched down and ran her fingers through his unruly hair, full of brown hair, deep thoughts, and promises that had yet to be broken. It was strange to run your fingers through the corpse of someone you knew and realize that you've always wanted to do it all this time, minus the corpse part.

(Strange, referring to Yeshuah as a corpse.)

She crept closer, turning him over, and saw that his eyes were open. They were not closed the way she had pictured most dead bodies, with closed, peaceful eyes. Yeshuah's open lifeless eyes were peaceful, if only in a cruel way.

Amata laid her fingertips over his eyelids and closed them. She exhaled as deeply as she could, then put her hand over her mouth.

If people could cry when they were dead, then this must be what Yeshuah looked like – then the princess realized that those were her tears and not his. She let the tears flow freely, sobbing and choking out her grief through salt and water.

Peter and his wife Mary watched silently, the latter leaning her head on the former's shoulder, and she cried as well.

"It was him," Amata realized as she held Yeshuah's body, not caring if she would be declared unclean by Jewish law. "It was him all along."

She gently laid down Yeshuah back on the ground, whispered something that would have made him smile had he been alive, and stood up. Then the princess walked out to tell the others.

"Simon," she called when she was outside, making all turn to her. "Stop this right now."

Simon instantly let go of Mary, and nodded at the princess. "What seems to be the problem, Your Highness?"

"She is not guilty," Amata gave her verdict. The young soldier blinked, and then his eyes widened as he processed what she had said. "But, Princess, clearly it was her. I saw her face, I was there!"

"Do you remember what I had told you about my father?" Amata reminded him. "…That he was planning to kill Yeshuah all this time?" Several people paled when they heard the princess say this. They wanted to shush her, to keep her from saying such things, but they might be branded disrespectful, and so they held their tongues.

"And I suspect that he might have used any means possible to murder the carpenter." She continued. "Of course, that would have included—"

"—witchcraft." They turned to Mary of Magdala, whose eyes had suddenly brightened with understanding. She regarded them, and then explained, "I was assistant to a witch once. I did no witchcraft myself, but I had witnessed enough of it to understand most of the spells."

"Understandable for someone like her," Simon muttered. Mary, wife of Peter, gave him a look which told him to keep quiet. He complied almost immediately.

"The king went out of the palace once, not telling much of the servants anything about where he was going," the princess expounded further. "I was not told where he was going either. So that must mean that he was going to a magician's residence that day. Even more so when he was acting strange when he came back that night."

"That is a brilliant deduction, Your Highness," Jude said. "But how would the king have acquired Mary of Magdala's form, of all people?"

There was silence for a little while, until Simon, of all the allies of Yeshuah, spoke up. "He probably went to the witch that Mary assisted, by coincidence. And the potion that the magician made for the king was specifically brewed to have him take her former assistant's appearance."

"Hold on, I am still trying to comprehend what is going on," Thomas said, putting a hand to his forehead. "So, what you are all saying is, the king was the culprit all this time, and managed to pull off this crime with the help of a witch?"

"Pretty much," Peter clarified.

"This is all a very strange affair, indeed," the architect's brow creased in confusion. Matthew rolled his eyes. "Forgive him," he said. "Thomas does not believe in magic."

During all this, Mary of Magdala was in thought, wondering about Yeshuah's death and what exactly had King Caiaphas done to him. She paced the road, going from spell to spell in her head.

Then she looked up, as if something had suddenly lit up above her head (aside from the sun, which peeked out from behind the clouds).

"I know what we have to do," she said, then she ran into the house without warning. The others followed suit, hoping that what she had in mind would work.

* * *

**A/N: There is a reason why I held back on this chapter.**

**Hopefully this chapter wasn't too boring for your taste (or the story overall). To me, though, the story strangely leaves a taste in my mouth that's familiar to soup. That's just me and my randomness talking.**

**Review please! They'll taste like cookies (except for flames, that would be like soy sauce).**


	19. Chapter 18: The Wrath of the Ark

**(A/N: Thank you for waiting patiently, my fellow people. Here is, finally, the eighteenth chapter of Yeshuah and the Twelve Disciples!**

**And I do not own the Bible.)**

* * *

James was taken down to the dungeons, where he was to be put. He struggled against his holds, even when he was getting tired and knew that they wouldn't let him go anytime soon. It was only when a sword was pointed to his back that he finally stopped, and he knew from whom this sword came from.

"The Lord will punish you for this, King Caiaphas," James said, at which the blade poked his back again. "And how can you be so sure of this, commoner?"

"God has seen your merciless deed. You killed an innocent man. What makes you think that He will not do anything about this?"

"The fact that you are foolish, and that you believe that Yeshuah, the son of a poor carpenter, is really the son of Yahweh."

"It is true," James's resolve hardened. "I know it to be with all my heart."

The soldiers holding him then tossed him into an open cell, and shut the door tight. James looked up, and moved over to grab the bars.

"Enjoy your stay here, prisoner, until death comes," King Caiaphas sneered. Then he walked away, flanked by his soldiers. James watched them leave, and when they were out of his sight, he slumped over, feeling defeated.

"_It wasn't supposed to be like this,"_ he thought to himself. _"We could have protected Yeshuah better."_

His jaw clenched, and with an angry grunt, he punched the wall next to him.

* * *

"Amata?" King Caiaphas called for his daughter. "Amata, where are you?"

When she didn't respond, he frowned, and walked to her chambers. He knocked on her door, saying, "Amata? Are you in there?"

Nothing.

His brow creased as he opened the door and realized that the room was empty. "You there," he turned to a servant who was cleaning the halls. The servant looked up, put his broom against the wall, and bowed. "Yes, Your Majesty?" he asked.

"Tell the captain of the guard to look for the princess. She is the one missing this time."

"Yes, Your Majesty," the servant said, running off to find the captain. Caiaphas sighed.

"Well, if they do not find her fast enough, there is one more thing that I could try," he said to himself as he walked towards his own chambers.

The trapdoor had finally been fixed in time for King Caiaphas to use it properly. What had broken the old one, he had no idea. The carpenter said that by the looks of it, something heavy had pressed down on the old door, which was worn with age.

But now was not the time to worry about such trivial things. The thing on Caiaphas's mind was about his daughter, and he wondered if she was doing something that he would punish her for.

Which she was.

Down the long and dark hallway he went, knowing every step he took brought him closer to the answers he wanted.

There it was. The door to his one treasure, the ark.

He swung it open, seeing the ark's gold glint in the torchlight. "Speak, wise ark!" he called. "Where is my daughter Amata?"

The ark was silent before replying, "She is in Galilee."

"What?" Caiaphas asked. "What would she be doing there?"

"Getting away from you."

The king crossed his arms. "Why would she want to be away from me? I gave her everything she could ever want! I'm her father? Why would someone like Amata want to rebel against me?"

"Because she is smart, King Caiaphas." The ark flat-out stated. "You never gave her what she needed right now. She rebels against you because she loves you and she loves Yeshuah."

"That darn Yeshuah!" King Caiaphas scowled. "He's dead! Why won't she stop?"

"Because you didn't in the end."

Caiaphas was stunned now. "Huh? What do you mean?"

"You were on a war path, seeking to destroy all who stood in your way, from the assassin to Yeshuah himself, maybe even your daughter, by crushing her soul and trying to take away her hope.

"But here, you halt."

And with that, wind blew from the outside and shut the door with a _thud!_ Caiaphas looked behind him, and realized he was trapped.

The king looked back to the ark before him, now menacing and a threat. "Who are you?" he asked, feeling his throat go dry.

Many voices answered him.

"We are the servants of the Lord God, the wisdom of our spirits preserved in this ark, so that one worthy of our answers may hear what we have to say. We are the wisdom of the spirits of the prophets, of King David, King Solomon, King Josiah, and…"

Here, a ghostly figure rose up from the ark, almost entirely made of smoke that smelled like incense. Caiaphas felt like he had shrunk down to the size of a detestable insect.

"…King Yahweh."

"What-what are you going to do with me?"

"The Lord God has seen your actions, as well as the actions your daughter took to stop you. You could have just stopped fighting my answers, but you didn't. You took all the time you needed to plot your downfall. And so, my answer is…"

Yahweh didn't need to finish. In that exact second, the king suddenly grabbed his throat, feeling breathless. He tried to take in a breath, but couldn't.

_His breath will still._

The ghost watched on as Caiaphas tried to live a little longer, to keep what he had, but it was no use. His life was diminishing by the second.

_His blood congeal._

King Caiaphas fell to the ground, his crown rolling away, and stopping at the foot of the ark. The ghost picked it up, and looked to the sky which was not visible to him. But he could see it anyway.

"Fulfill my wish, Lord," Yahweh said, and he was at peace.

* * *

**(A/N: Sorry for taking so long. Frankly, this was a b-word to write. I couldn't figure out important plot devices in time, but I did soon enough, so I hope this is well to your liking.**

**And the next chapter will probably come faster, if I'm not too busy.)**


	20. Chapter 19: True Love's Kiss

**(I'm back!)**

* * *

"Are you sure that this will work?" Thomas asked the former prostitute. "This is mad. He's been dead for a long period of time already!"

"If we have enough time," Mary of Magdala held up a finger to shush him, "then this solution will work. Yeshuah could indeed be revived for this."

"I'm sorry, I wasn't paying attention to the explanation," Andrew raised his hand. "What exactly _was_ the solution you had in mind?"

Mary rolled her eyes at him, but nevertheless repeated. "The cure for this poison is that the victim should receive true love's kiss. That way, Yeshuah will be revived, and everyone will be happy. Got it?"

"…This is completely illogical."

"Thomas, please. I've read the spell books. There's no way that this wouldn't work."

Amata looked down at the body of Yeshuah below her. He was already cold and pale, and like Thomas, she had her doubts. Would this work? Mary of Magdala was so confident that it would; what if it didn't?

She couldn't bear putting her hope in something false.

"_Miriam would be so upset if – or when – she finds out that what she had dreamt came true on this very day,"_ the princess thought to herself. She almost leaned down and kissed the corpse, but she didn't. Not yet. She was still trying to process.

"But Mary, what if something does go wrong?" she heard Peter's voice ask. "What if it fails, and Yeshuah doesn't wake up?"

A silence followed. Mary was thinking; Amata could sense that she was already tiring of hearing the same question over and over again.

"If it fails," the former harlot said softly, "then I was wrong."

"_Please don't be wrong,"_ Amata wanted to say. _"Please, I want him back too."_

A moment of hushed whispers amongst the men inside the room followed, and Simon turned to look at her. "Your Highness," he asked, snapping her back to reality, "are you alright?"

Amata blinked. She looked up at the young soldier.

"Y-Yes."

She adjusted Yeshuah's body on her lap, so that he would be easier to hold up when she kissed him. All the while, one half of her mind kept repeating Peter's question.

"_What if it fails, and Yeshuah doesn't wake up?"_

The other half told her to calm down and trust Mary. If Mary didn't know anything, then who did?

"_God,"_ her mind finalized, and she bent down, slowly raising his cold lips to hers. _"Please make this work."_

When the distance between them was closed, Amata thought of many things. First of all, she thought of Yeshuah, son of Yosef (Yahweh?). Then she thought of the way he would talk to her on a bright day. How they would spend time together and walk in the hallways, not saying a word. How he always kissed her hand whenever she visited him. How that would all resume when he opened his eyes.

She pulled back, opening her own hazel eyes, and everyone was looking expectantly at Yeshuah for any signs of life; a twitch, a gasp of air, anything.

And then nothing happened.

After 10 seconds, nothing happened.

After 20 seconds, nothing happened.

After a full minute, everyone began to lower their heads in respect. Mary of Magdala covered her mouth and wondered, where had she gone wrong?

"I'm sorry, your Highness," John said quietly behind the princess but she shook her head and tried to hold in her tears. Things were crashing down before her eyes. It was over. What had they to protect now?

That was when Amata listened to herself, and her eyes widened.

_Them._

How could she have been so foolish? If she was the one dead, and he were the one kissing her, then he would be thinking of everyone that had helped her, protected her, and stayed by her side. She was only thinking of her own personal gain when Yeshuah woke up. She needed to think about the others as well!

(This is what true love is, she remembered her mother say, to put others before yourself.)

It wasn't over. Not yet.

She pressed her lips to his again, but this time she thought of everyone standing around her. She thought of Peter and his wife and how they had selflessly given Yeshuah a place to stay. She thought of Mary of Magdala and the others, as loyal as anyone could be. She thought of James, lying on the unwelcoming floor of a cell inside the dungeon. She thought of Simon, the faithful young soldier, who would no doubt be executed if this didn't work – but if this didn't work, then what would?

She pulled back, more slowly this time, and then they waited some more. And waited. And waited.

The gentle breeze blowing into the room suddenly became a strong gust of wind – and they were even more amazed when they saw that the room had no windows.

"I do not believe it!" Thomas muttered, gaping.

"It is real!" Philip said. "Praise the Lord!"

Mary of Magdala beamed, not even bothering to fix her hair. She cheered in her heart that it had worked.

All the others watched with open eyes as Yeshuah's previously lifeless body twitched, and then he took a deep breath. He slowly opened his own mismatched eyes, and then looked up at all of them, scanning the room.

"…Amata?"

The princess's face broke out in a smile.

* * *

**(One more chapter to go! It will be coming up shortly!**

**Oh, and thank you all for following this fanfiction to the end!)**


	21. Epilogue

**(A/N: Yeshuah is risen! But there's still a lot of things to do!)**

* * *

James sat in the dungeon, trying to sleep. How much time had passed since he had been tossed in this place? It felt like days to him. He huddled further into the corner, cradling his knees to his chest, his toes curling. He closed his eyes.

Not a minute had passed when he found himself opening his eyes again, the door to his cell opening.

"Are you setting me free this early?" he asked, getting to his feet. The jailer at the door nodded. "We have orders from Princess Amata to set you free."

James raised an eyebrow. Why would the princess issue such an order, and for someone like him? It didn't make much sense to him at all until his chains were off and he was led up the stairs, to meet a familiar face.

"Did you miss me, James?" Yeshuah son of Yosef asked, a smile on his face.

James was at a loss for words.

* * *

After a week of struggles, it was the day of rest for the Israelites. This was a significant rest day in the eyes of the carpenter and his friends. They were free, and so was Yeshuah – he no longer had to hide.

At first, the Kingdom of Israel was at a loss for what to do, when King Caiaphas's dead body was found in the chamber of the Ark. Their first impulse was to make Princess Amata the queen, but they needed someone to rule alongside her. A king.

Many suitors still wanted to take her hand, but she would only have Yeshuah in the end. It helped a bit that Miriam, Yeshuah's mother, indeed did not deny that King Yahweh was Yeshuah's father. People were sceptical at first, but then Yeshuah told the people of Caiaphas's plot to kill him, and seeing as Caiaphas had hidden Yahweh and Miriam (that was what Miriam had disclosed) and selfishly wanted his line to run forever, that made sense, even though not all the issues were easily resolved.

Even after all that Caiaphas had done and try to kill the carpenter, he was buried with reverence – he was Amata's father, after all. They were still unsure of what would happen to his immortal soul – none can say for sure.

When the period of mourning for the former king had come to an end, Yeshuah, son of Yahweh, and Amata, daughter of Caiaphas, were wed on a splendid, sunny day. All was well and the wedding had lasted for seven days. It was a period of rejoicing for Israel, and all were welcome to celebrate. They were soon crowned King and Queen of Israel.

As for the people who had helped Yeshuah, they were rewarded for freely giving him their time and resources. Simon the young soldier in particular was promoted to second-in-rank, next to the captain of the guard. He, and the rest of the Twelve, never forgot their crazy adventure with Yeshuah, and they all soon had many more to come.

Together, Yeshuah and Amata – and their children, too – lived happily ever after.

So ends our tale.

* * *

**(And with this, the story of Yeshuah and the Twelve Disciples comes to a close. I hope you liked it!)**


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